


Goodbye, Hello

by FreshPrincessofCheyne



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Animated), DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: A tiny bit of fluff, Angst, Bruce is in denial, Confessions, M/M, pinning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 19:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6579262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshPrincessofCheyne/pseuds/FreshPrincessofCheyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce wants Clark to stay, but the only way to get him to stay is for Bruce to finally say he loves him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goodbye, Hello

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabble that hasn't been edited and I'm quiet tired so it might be all over the place, sorry for any mistakes, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! Love you all!!

Bruce bowed his head. He didn't know how to respond to Clark. Clark, thinking that Bruce didn't hear him, repeated it again like he wanted to torture Bruce with those few words that sounded like thin ice on the verge of cracking. 

“I'm doing what I have to do. Nothing can change it, not even you, Bruce.”

Bruce grinded his teeth. “Besides your death.” When his eyes met Clark's, they were blazing like a fire. Clark flinched, as if Bruce was the one with laser vision, searing his skin.

“I won't die. This isn't even about my death.”

He turned, eyes to the floor of the cave. “You say that now, but what about a day from now, or a week when it _is_ about your death?” Clark was silent, frustrated, until Bruce slammed his fist against the console of the bat computer. “How will I know when to say _my_ goodbye, dammit?” He didn't only mean it as literally, either. 

He punched the console a second time. When he raised his fist to do it again, Clark's fingers -with a butterfly's touch- slide down Bruce's wrist and curled around his closed fist. Bruce spun around, and hand still in Clark's, watched as he put his fingers between Bruce's and squeezed his hand before letting it go. It fell to his side. Bruce's heart lurched in his chest.

“I'm sure you're aware of the perks that come with this lifestyle,” Clark said, “we don't get the luxury of knowing when to say goodbye for good.” _However, I got lucky and I_ do _know_ , Clark thought to himself solemnly. _But I don't want to._

“I wouldn't consider them as _perks_ , exactly,” Bruce replied, voice dripping to the cold floor and spilling at Clark's feet. _Especially if that means falling in love with your partner and not being able to say it_ , he thought to himself.

Clark put his hand on Bruce's shoulder. They stood still, Bruce's body cold everywhere except the place Clark's hand rested, his fingers kneading his tense shoulder. Bruce wondered if his whole body would be warm if Clark laid down with him, on top of him. He wanted to ask Clark, just to stay for the night, forget about the world and focus only on _him_. But, he bit his tongue and instead, batted away Clark's hand and without meeting his eyes, put his arms under Clark's, and hid his head into the crook of Clark's collarbone. When he let out a sigh, Clark shivered at the unfamiliar feel of Bruce's warm breath against his skin.

He longed to feel it until it was no longer an unfamiliar sensation. He wanted to hear, feel Bruce's breath before they kissed, to feel his heavy panting while they were making love, to feel it against the inside of his thighs, his shoulders, his neck...but, nothing besides their moments' embrace happened. Nothing else besides that would ever happen between the two.

Clark's arms reached to wrap around Bruce and pull him closer. This time, Bruce didn't grunt or try to shove him away or say anything smart, and Clark realized, with a pain deep in his chest, that this was his goodbye, or maybe it was _Clark's_ all along.

The longer Bruce let it go on, the further his chest caved in. He had to go.

“Clark,” Bruce said, words muffled against his skin. Clark shivered again, the vibrations from Bruce's voice rumbling in his bones. “This doesn't have to be goodbye.”

“Yes, it does.” When Clark tried to pull away, Bruce didn't let him and yanked him back in, huffing in annoyance.

“You can't hug me forever, Bruce,” Clark said with a breathy laugh. Bruce shivered and held him tighter.

“I can goddamn try.”

Clark chuckled. Finally, willing himself to let Clark go, he did.

“Clark, just know this,” he said, “before you leave. I've had to let so many people go and I understand _why_ I have to let them go, but it doesn't change the fact that I _hate_ to understand. And this time...I don't want to let you go. I'm tired of pretending that it doesn't hurt me. I'm willing to admit that it _physically_ pains me to let you go, if you just admit you want to _stay_.” There was a long pause. “Don't make this _your_ goodbye, Clark, because I don't want to make it mine, either.”

“We can't keep doing this,” said Clark, voice strained. “We repeat this _same_ conversation, reveal the _same_ truths, almost _all of the time_. And doing this” -he motioned between the two of them- “is tiring. I'm tired of hanging on when I know you won't let go, but _I'm_ ready to let go. I've stayed before, and yet, you still refuse to say what's the real truth on your mind.” His eyes flickered to Bruce's lips.

Bruce's response was delayed. “I just can't see you with someone else. I know I should let you go, especially when I'm not even reaching for you, but I want to. Believe me, Clark,” Bruce said, hand on his chest, right over the _S_. “I do.”

“You're a selfish bastard.”

Bruce glanced at his feet. He felt like he'd been stung. All this time, he was pinning over Clark and didn't do anything about it, to the point Clark was tired of waiting. “I know.”

“So? Is this time going to be any different? Am I going to be able to call myself yours? Will I be able to call you mine? Will we get endless nights together?”

Bruce was silent. He wanted it. But, he was selfish, like Clark said and he turned away. Clark sighed, another jab puncturing his chest and leaving a hole.

“You don't know how much it hurts me to say goodbye,” Clark said, voice a whisper, “and every day it's like a fucking bullet to the chest and _I'm done_ , Bruce.” There was a long pause and Bruce's shoulders fell. “I'm not going to let you hurt me anymore.”

“You're the one saying goodbye!” He turned again, finger pointed at Clark, lip curled into a scowl. His eyes were slits. “You don't think _I'm_ hurt? You don't think I want _this_?”

“If you're so hurt, then just let me go! If I hurt you that much, then stop trying to hold onto me and you won't be hurting! You talk about admitting things, but _just admit that you love me_!” Clark's booming voice scattered the bats ahead, screeching through the cave, wings fluttering. When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter and his forehead was creased. “ _Then_ I'll stay. And only then.” Clark was silent for a while. “And you think I don't want this? It's all I've _ever_ wanted and you just won't let us have it even when we know we love each other. And I can't keep waiting anymore, Bruce, I can't. I'll say it again. If you tell me that you love me, even just _once_ , I'll stay. If you don't, you'll know it's time to say goodbye.”

He stuck his hand out, offering himself to Bruce, and Bruce glanced at it in longing, eyes glassy, before turning his back. He clenched his fists. They shook like his knees.

Clark's face fell, and in the next second, he straightened his posture and narrowed his eyes. He was done being hurt, especially by the man he loved. It was time he let go and it was certainly past the time Bruce needed to _let him go._

“Alright,” Clark said. His body slumped and his words made of ice, finally cracked. “ _Alright_. I guess that's that, then.” His heart hurt and his limbs felt heavy.

Bruce shut his eyes. He was letting another one go, possibly the most important one. He still didn't know why he did these things to himself. Clark waited, giving Bruce a small window to compose himself and maybe just admit what they both wanted him to admit, but he remained silent.

Bruce swallowed thickly, dreading the words he knew Clark would say. 

“Please stay,” Bruce finally whispered. Only, when he turned around, Clark was gone. He waited ten minutes, before, “I love you.”

He knew Clark could hear him. Only, it was too late at this point, far too late, and that had been his final goodbye, like he said. Bruce found out the hard way that this whole time, it wasn't him who needed to know when to say goodbye. He was still at hello, while Clark was long past goodbye.

Batman pulled his cowl up and over his face and continued to work.


End file.
